This is it.

undressing of it all— slipping out of something uncomfortable, we are all eyes presenting ribboning wrapper off in the tender light of 2. Loosening counterclockwise, we don't run out of time we are not running.

teach me.

it is safe to assume I’m going to die in your room drown in your shower                press myself like a flower in the book that I wrote-- all the things we never spoke     nothing helpful on every dry page. (you will learn to live in that cage)

I’d just like to go home

came to kneel at your altar. heaven is a place— it is a room. were I to tear apart the veil would my presence be worthy? these eyes are just eyes after all.

Hands holding elbows up interruption is welcome— is it? Do you like this? Do I like I? If I die eye won't see a thing. That's no answer. Avoidance is comforting (for minutes.)

A rhyme has a rhyme such as time & time, again I have neither do you either? (of course not)

Not Art #20

does that sound hopeful?

(I might be a fool)

Not Art #18

And it isn't a joke, or some poem I wrote It's the shadow tracing back to every word I spoke

sharing a process.

You’re drunk.

I accept.